by Jami Wagner
I nod when really, I didn’t watch very many movies because I was always making appearances for my parents. Or I was at the hair stylist because my mother thought my roots need touched up, or my ends were too dry, or because the length of my hair didn’t flatter the shape of my face. Or I was doing some silly sport training for tennis or horseback riding, just so my mother could brag about me being the best. Everything was a competition with her.
“I don’t believe you,” Beth says, opening my purse to pull out my list. She pulls a pen from hers and writes “watch Grease” at the bottom. “Luke would die some more if you showed up to work in a pair of leather pants.”
“Especially since you’ve become a very popular bartender over the last couple of weeks. Conner told me you had the same couple come in every night last week and request you.”
I smile. My first regulars. It’s a silly thought, but it means something to me.
“Did you say leather?” I ask.
“Oh dear Lord, that settles it. We are finding you that Sandy outfit.”
“If Luke and I didn’t go in a couple’s costume, what do you think he would be?” We’ve been hanging out for a while as more than friends, which I really, really enjoy, but there is so much more about him I need to learn. Maybe his costume choice will tell me something.
“Hmm, if it were the old Luke, I’d say he’d show up in a Tarzan outfit,” Beth answers.
“Really? I thought he would be more like the type of guy to show up as Picasso or some other painter,” says Alex.
“Do you know any other famous painters?” Beth asks.
Alex sticks her tongue out and they laugh. But I’m pretty sure I got lost somewhere.
“Neither of those costumes make sense to me.” I shake my head and pause to pull out another costume for consideration. No. I don’t think I would make a very good gypsy.
“That doesn’t surprise me since Luke is just now starting to act like himself. It wouldn’t surprise me, either, if he finally starts painting again,” Beth says.
“He paints?” I know relationships take time, but painting is something I should know he likes by this point, right?
“Hey, don’t look so upset about it. He hasn’t done a lot since his dad passed. He stopped doing anything that wasn’t work related for his mom and sisters. He’ll find his way back, and if you two keep going like you are, you’ll be there with him every step of the way,” Beth says, giving me a side hug.
I nod. She’s right, and I know just how to help him, too.
Screw this Sandy and Danny costume idea. I have an ever better one.
Luke
Class ends early for the weekend, and I head for my car. I want to stop by the bookstore before I head into work so I can kiss on my girl before we have to control ourselves in a room full of people all night. It’s been hard to keep my hands off her. Not only is she sexy as hell, she’s one of the kindest and most honest people I’ve ever met. Everything feels calm and right when I’m with her.
I dig my cell from my pocket when it dings and shove it back when I see it’s another text from Brandy asking me to come by the house. I’ve been avoiding my sisters when I can and only going by Mom’s when they’re in school.
I don’t want to think they’re the ones who broke in any more than I want to remember how much I blamed Sky for it. I don’t want to turn into that person again. And I really don’t want to think about how each time I replace the window, this damn inspector guy tells me two weeks. Two weeks. I just want to open my store already!
If it was my sisters and I just let it go, what does that say about me? I’d treat a stranger like crap for tearing the place apart, but I’d let my sisters get away with it because they’re family? If they did it, there has to be some type of punishment. Right?
My cell buzzes again, but this time, it’s Sky.
HEY I’M PUTTING MY COSTUME TOGETHER WITH BETH BEFORE WORK. I’LL JUST RIDE WITH HER THERE. SEE YOU SOON. XOXO
I slump into the driver’s seat of my truck. I guess I won’t be stopping by the store after all. I should probably just head home and get ready myself. My costume doesn’t take much, but until I know exactly what to say to my sisters, keeping clear of them for just a bit longer is best.
* * *
I’m pouring what feels like my hundredth draft beer of only the first hour of the night when a white blob catches my eye. I have to double take. Sky, in a fully white outfit, including a pair of white heels, approaches my end of the counter.
“Hey there,” she says with a wink and then continues on as if the tight clothing is normal. I know it’s Halloween and I’m the worst for assuming, but I really thought I’d see more skin tonight. I mean, Beth is dressed as Ariel, and where I would think she’d wear those fishnet looking things girls wear, she’s wearing a miniskirt instead. Abby is wearing—well, that doesn’t really apply because she shows a lot of skin every day—but as I take a quick scan around the room, Sky is the only woman wearing pants as the bottom half to her costume.
She passes behind me at the bar, a finger stroking across my back as she goes. That touch—damn—makes me really wish we weren’t at work right now. I twist slowly, taking in how tight this outfit really is and how perfectly round it shows off her ass. But I have no idea what she is. I’m about to ask when Alex, dressed as Catwoman and the second woman to wear pants so far, cuts me off.
“Hey, Sky.” She leans over the counter, handing Sky a bucket with paintbrushes sticking out of it. “You forgot the rest of your costume.”
Sky, is now beaming with a smile just as white as her ensemble. Alex laughs as she walks to a table in the back where Sara, Logan, Ethan, and Kelsey are sitting.
“I feel like I should really know what you are by this point, but all I can think is that you’re a painter?” I ask as she shrugs off the white jacket and reveals a simple white tank underneath.
“Nope, guess again.”
“A famous painter?”
I’m not very good at guessing.
“Nope.”
The P pops on her lips, and I have to control myself from touching them with my own. Why do we have to be at work right now?
“I’m a blank canvas,” she says.
Wow.
“And I happen to know a painter”—she leans in—“who might enjoy a blank canvas”—she leans in farther, her lips almost touching my ear—“to paint. Alone. Tonight.”
I’m pretty sure everyone in the bar just heard the bob in my throat.
“And if he gets too messy, I guess I’ll just give him a nude canvas instead.”
Yup. Yes. And now I’m severely annoyed that we are at work.
“Hello, paper towel boy, I need my drinks,” Abby interrupts.
I roll my eyes.
“I’m the Brawny Man,” I say, shooting Sky a wink. I step to pass her and wrap my fingers around her wrist, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. “Our first painting will definitely be messy.”
I leave her standing with a satisfied look on her face as I get to work. This is about to be the longest, but then best, night of my life.
Skylar
Luke dropped me off and told me he’d be back in less than ten minutes. So, in my genius idea to use the heat already brewing inside me to ignite him the moment he steps through the door—and because I’ve always wanted to do this—I strip naked and crawl onto the bed. I’ll be the first thing he sees when he walks through the door. All of me.
I attempt a few different poses to choose which I think is the best. I decide on the one with me on my belly, legs bent, ankles crossed, and looking back at him over my shoulder.
I get into position right as the door opens. He freezes. He doesn’t make any facial expressions, but his chest moves quickly as his eyes rack my entire body.
“Sky, you look … wow.”
He strides to one side of the bed, setting a few small, white cups on the nightstand. They each have splashes of paint in them. He brought paint. He really brought paint
. My heart thuds as I watch him get out three different brushes, dipping each into a different color. Holy smokes, he’s going to paint me.
“I’m so glad you’re ready for me,” he says, swirling the brush in one cup. “But I think you should flip over. Tonight, I think I’ll start with the front.”
Without thinking about it, I flip over. My arms are glued to my sides as I lay stiff.
“Relax.” His deep chuckle sends goose bumps all over my skin. But I do relax, because he’s grinning at me, and I love that grin.
Hovering one brush over my body, he slowly drips color from my chest to my ribs to my belly button. My back arches when the cold paint touches me where I want him most.
“Hold still,” he says. He grabs another color, repeating this process up and down my legs. He takes the last color, continuing the process over my entire body this time. He pauses over my breasts.
He leans in, his lips tugging on my ear. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.
I do.
I inhale at the first drop of paint. The next drop hits my right nipple, and I jerk forward. Luke’s hand gently presses me back to the mattress. Another drop to my left nipple makes me cry out.
“Luke, stop teasing me, please.”
“Baby, this isn’t teasing. This,” he pauses, “is teasing.”
A brush touches my chest and slowly, agonizingly, Luke strokes across one breast, then the other. Down to my stomach, and farther. I squirm with desire each time the soft bristles touch a new spot of my body. I’m wet, all over, and I love it. I want Luke more than anything right now.
His movements have slowed, and I hear the zipper of his pants. Then clothes shuffling. I peek with one eye and easily spot how much this is turning him on, just like me.
“Keep those eyes closed, Sky. Or I’ll do only this all night,” he laughs.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to gain some type of control over my body. I just want to yank that paintbrush out of his hand, throw it across the room, and pull him into me.
My attention goes to the bristles again as the near my core. Closer and closer.
“Take a deep breath,” he says just as I think the bristles are about to touch me there. Instead, I feel him push into me, and even though my eyes are closed, I see stars. The wonderful feeling of him filling me is more than I can handle. I lock my arms around his neck, holding on. He lowers himself until we are chest to chest, the paint smearing between us. He grips the back of my legs, bending them to his sides, and then he runs his hands over the paint he left there and on my chest, rubbing it over my skin. The easy glide of each touch makes him thrust faster, harder. My ankles lock around him, holding him in place as my orgasm crashes through my body.
“Sky,” Luke calls out as he slows. He presses his lips against mine and rides out the last of his own release. “I think I just fell in love with painting all over again.”
We both glance down at the yellow, blue, and green swirls of paint that cover us and laugh. It’s on my sheets, comforter, and pillows.
“This mess—totally worth it,” I tell him and kiss him again.
Life is so much better than I ever thought it could be.
Chapter Sixteen
Skylar
I wake to the soft tickles of Luke’s fingers over my back. Last night was the first night he’s ever slept over. I could get used to waking this way. That grin he’s giving me—yeah, that’s pretty nice to wake up to as well.
“You should really take a shower,” he says.
And that, I do not want to wake up to.
“Good morning to you, too.”
I sit up, pulling the covers with me to cover myself as I lean against the wall. Luke’s chuckle goes right to my core as he copies my position.
“I only say that because there is paint all over the bed and you.” His eyes slowly take in the parts of me still uncovered. The way his eyes gaze at the blanket as though he can see right through it makes my heart beat fast.
“Oh,” is the only thing I come up with for a response.
“And as much as I’d love to join you, I have to get downstairs. The inspector should be here anytime.” He crawls out of bed, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and tugging a charcoal t-shirt over his head. “All I need is for him to give me the green light and tomorrow, Warren Books will be back open for business.”
“Finally,” I say. “You’ll have to let me know when you want me to work, you know, to pay for rent.”
“I don’t know if that’s still a requirement to live here, but I’m not going to argue if you want to work in the store, especially with the holidays. I won’t be able to hire someone new right away anyhow.” He kisses the top of my head. “Oh, on that subject, I’m not sure what you had planned for Thanksgiving, but would you want to—and I get it if you don’t because you do have your own family and all—but would you want to, um—”
“I’d love to have Thanksgiving with you and your family, of course, if that’s what you’re trying to ask me.”
He smiles and nods. “I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready. We can go to breakfast when the inspector is done.”
“Sounds perfect.”
A smile is glued to my face as he leaves.
When the door latches closed, I whip the sheet off and rush to the bathroom. I shower in record time, twist my hair into a bun, apply a light bit of makeup, and put on an outfit very similar to Luke’s. I’m bouncing down the stairs after thirty minutes, total, the same goofy smile on my face as before.
“Since when is that required?” Luke’s loud voice carries into the stairwell as I reach the door to the store.
“It’s always been code. Somehow, your father must have gotten around it, but I won’t sign off on this until it’s fixed.”
“That’s going to take me weeks and cost me more money than I can afford to spend on the store right now.”
“I’m sorry, Luke, but you can’t have extension cords running everywhere. You’ll have to install more outlets. I don’t make the rules, just enforce them. And the shelves are too close together.” He pauses and I take this moment to step into the room. “They need to be thirty-six inches apart, not thirty-three. There isn’t enough room to fit a wheelchair down each aisle. And there should forty inches of room at the end of aisle to turn.”
The inspector rips said sheet off of his clipboard and hands it to Luke.
“Call me when it’s ready, and I’ll be back to sign off for you.”
Luke doesn’t say anything to him as he walks out the door. The room falls silent enough to hear every breath he takes.
I take a slow, hesitant step toward Luke. He crunches the sheet of paper into a ball and tosses it to the floor.
“I don’t have the time to deal with this. I can’t do it all anymore.”
I lick my lips and look away. Just seeing the pain in his eyes chokes me up.
“Luke, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get things fixed and open this place up in no time.”
“It could be another month, maybe more. Where am I going to get the money?”
“We just need to make a few phone calls and get—”
“Oh, what do you know?” he growls. “You have no idea what it feels like to bust your ass to provide for someone. To take care of family. You had everything you needed and you left it behind for what? To prove a point.”
I stand frozen. I can feel the prickling of tears at the back of my eyes. My teeth hurt as I grind them together. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s angry, and I’m the only one here for him to take his anger out on.
“What, you don’t have anything to say?”
I let out a breath, slowly. “I’m not going to argue with you when you’re this upset. I care about you too much to say something I will regret later.”
“Mad, Skylar? I’m fucking furious. I should have put more time into this place instead of picking up shifts at the bar. I should have dropped the entire semester to give this place my full attention. I shou
ldn’t have …” His eyes meet mine and he doesn’t finish that sentence. “Every day you watch me struggle with this goddamned place just so I can reopen. You say you care about me, but that’s a lie. If you cared, you would have offered to help take this burden away by now.”
Wow.
Okay, now I have something to say.
“So, what you’re saying is, because my family comes from money I should just offer it to you because we’re together?”
“Skylar—”
“That even though you’re fully aware I came here to build my own life and make my own way, I should just give it all up because you’re struggling.”
My own voice is beginning to scare me.
“Skylar—”
“How dare you think I owe you anything! Are you even with me because you want to be, or is it because you want my family’s money? Is that what you were trying to say, that you shouldn’t have wasted your time with me?”
“Sky—”
“Because, news flash, Luke! I have no money! It was never my money to begin with. I can’t help you. Sorry to let you down.”
I march for the door to the stairwell. Screw him. I’ve spent too much time in my life with men who think money is everything.
“Sky, wait.”
I jerk open the door, not slowing to listen to him. Luke comes up behind me, grabs my wrist to stop me, and turn me around. I have to cross my arms to control myself from reaching up and slapping him. I can’t even look at him right now.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I said that. I wasn’t thinking.”
I’m not saying anything.
“I didn’t mean any of it. I swear to God I didn’t. I should have calmed down before I spoke. You’ve done nothing but support me, even when I accused you of breaking in. You’ve believed in me and the store. I know you care. I care about you, and nothing else. I don’t care about this store. I don’t care about the money. Tell me you forgive me. Please, Sky. Tell me I didn’t just mess this all up.”
Ugh! I can’t just pretend like he didn’t hurt me. And I can’t pretend that I believe him. Money is important to him. It always will be. At this point, I just don’t know how much.
